Fire and Ice
by Somnambulista
Summary: AU - Jace Beleren and Kethravyn Zhal run from the maniacal Tezzeret after the death of Liliana and Kallist. Jace, still shell-shocked from reintegrating with his own body, struggles to keep his head with the charismatic and talented Blue Adept - but when they run into trouble with the Rakdos, their abilities will be put to the ultimate test - as will his sanity. Can they survive?
1. The Opening

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. All characters belong to their respective owners - Jace Beleren and co are property of Magic: The Gathering, and Kethravyn Zhal as well as other originals are my own.

Kethravyn awoke on the floor of her room in the Llanowar Inn. She felt a sharp pain in her head that sang of too much drink, and as she struggled to sit up by pulling herself onto her bed, she tugged the sheets down on top of her and dropped back to the hard wooden floor with a thud.

She closed her eyes, her breathing laboured as she struggled not to vomit on herself. She crossed her arms over her exposed breasts, hands gripping each shoulder. "I feel _awful_," she moaned, turning her head to the side; she buried her face into her confectionery-coloured hair, breathing in the scent of the particular soap she'd used. It always managed to help keep her stomach, and for a moment she forgot the blinding pain rattling around in her head.

The city of Ravnica flowed beneath her window, the market outside the inn bustling with life. She could hear traders haggling with customers, children screaming, animals braying and baying, and the stench of smoked meats wafted through the slats, breaking the calming scent of lavender and violet that she was concentrating on. She found a burst of energy as she rolled to her stomach, pushing off of the floor and darting for the waste bin.

Between heaves, she heard a sharp rap at her door, and managed to call a very pained, "Come in," before she began her retching anew. When she had finished, she managed to slide ungracefully to the floor, laying in a heap in the fetal position. Her blue eyes came to rest on a pair of thick, black boots, things that she focused her red, watery eyes on for a moment before letting them sweep upward.

"Jace," she choked, closing her eyes as the room seemed to tilt beneath her.

"Gods be damned, Kethry," he chastised angrily. He crouched down next to her, ignoring her state of undress, and with a finger carefully unstuck a streak of pink and white-blonde hair from her eyelashes. "Tezzeret has men everywhere. This is the last place you need to be right now," he said, his deep voice doing nothing to hide the hostility he felt for the man.

"Nooo," she began, pushing his hand away despite the gentle touch he had. "this is the last place _you_ should be," she corrected him. She took a few breaths and pushed off of the floor, making it to her bed, her movements totally unashamed. Her thin frame was wracked with scars and bruises, the freshest of which displayed as a pair of large handprints, one on either of her forearms, as though someone had grabbed her. When she turned, she noticed him staring at them, and grabbed the thin linen sheet from the bed, wrapping it around herself.

Jace merely arched an eyebrow at her. She was as modest as a gemhide sliver, so when did she suddenly feel embarrassed to be standing before him?

"Kethry," he said, his voice holding a warning note to it.

"_What_?" she replied, her voice defensive. She made it a point not to look him directly in his eyes, instead turning to sit on the bed with her back to him. She tipped her head back and closed her eyes, sighing heavily. She felt so horrible, and she knew he was about to make it worse.

For a moment, Jace wanted to shake her. He knew he didn't need her help, but after Liliana, it was hard for him to be alone. Tezzert had killed her after she'd revealed where he and Kallist had gone, and after he 'leaped' into his own body, Kethry had been the only person there who could even remotely help him. She was _talented_, and if he thought so then it said something. She had her own way of doing things, that was certain, but she had raw ability and he had been successful in helping her to guide it. Of course, it went without saying that neither of them could ever use their abilities on one another without the consent of the other, but every once in a while it was hard for Jace to resist, because it would have been much easier to read her mind then to wait for an honest answer.

It wasn't the first time he'd found her sleeping off a hangover in an inn with no real memory of the night before. It made him sick to his stomach to think of how much she dealt with. She was an Empath, and a strong one. The drinking could help dull it, but it made him not want to be around her because he felt partially responsible for some of the burden she carried, and to watch her drink to excess was painful. He wasn't an easy person to be around, and especially after both coming back into his own body _and_ finding out that Tezzeret had killed Liliana, he was virtually radiating pain all the time, even if he could maintain a good outward face. Unfortunately, just faking the appearance didn't help Kethry at all.

"I had an off night," she said softly, breaking under his disappointed stare.

He immediately regretted the guilt he'd meant to convey, and sat down on the bed in a way that faced her. He reached out and took her hand into his own, fingers tracing the bruises lightly. "You gotta be more careful," he said, his voice just above a whisper. It sounded like a plea.

She closed her eyes and lowered her head, pressing her full lips together. "I know," she admitted.

"What happened?" he pushed, distracting her from the nausea and pain of her drinking expedition by dragging the tips of his fingers over her palm. He caught a flicker of a smile on her elfish face, then the inevitable laugh when his touch began to tickle. He released her hand when he felt her begin to pull it away, resting his own on his legs as he re-adjusted himself on the uncomfortable bed.

She shook her head, fussing with the hem of the sheet that she had wrapped around her like an awkward, flowing white dress. "Nothing, really," she said with a sigh, running her hand through her fuzzy, shoulder-length platinum and pink hair. "I had a little disagreement with some Wojeks. Had to make them go away. Then I cut through a few alleys and came in here for the night. I felt like I deserved a drink or two for my victory," she said.

She was silent for a moment, then fixed her blue eyes on his own. "How did you find me?" she asked. She didn't remember much after coming into the inn. Men had been buying her drinks all night because she was _gorgeous_ and fun and she'd been toying around with red magic so her alcohol-induced fire-breathing trick definitely worked in her favour. She didn't even know how she'd gotten into her room, but it was definitely warded, so it wasn't as though anyone had come in or out without her say. Except Jace, of course, but the day she could find a ward good enough to stop him would be the day that she would no longer need him. Of course, she'd never tell him that.

"Are you kidding?" he asked, his cheek dimpling as he smiled more broadly. He raised his eyes to follow her hand as she reached out and pushed his hood off of his head. "I'm a Planeswalker. I could find you anywhere. I know your energy signature like the back of my own hand," he added matter-of-factly

"You look like a creeper like that," she joked, reaching up to push the hood of his dark blue-black cloak off of head. She seemed to stall out, hand slowly brushing back through his hair and down his cheek, index finger concentrating on the markings that decorated the right of his face.

This was always how it had been between Kethry and Jace. Blue adepts were volatile, anchored in two worlds, one of stability and one of ferocity. Their interactions were like the tides, the ebb and flow of the mood dictating the highs and lows of their relationship. Most blue mages found themselves incompatible amongst like, but the amount of duress that Kethry and Jace had been thrown into was just enough to help bond them together.

He caught her fingers in his hand before she could pull her arm back, then lowered her hand a little. He pressed his thumb into the spot between where her own thumb and index finger met. A grin sparked across his face as he saw her eyes roll back for a moment before her lids dropped, lashes fluttering. She flattened out, folding over onto his knee, arms tucked beneath her as she held the sheet together.

"How is your head, now?" His need for an answer was purely egotistical. Her body language alone was satisfying, but he wanted to hear her say it, if for no other reason then because he needed to remind her that they were paired for a reason.

"Amazing," she moaned, face first into the fabric of his pants.

There were sudden loud sounds below the window, and an obviously more alert Kethry sat up, sleepy eyes squinting at the rays of light pouring through the wide slats on the shutters. "What the hell is that?" she asked, looking to Jace.

He looked from her to the window as well, reaching outward with his mind to see if he could figure out what was going on without sticking his head out the window and inadvertently joining the fray himself. If there was trouble, he didn't want anyone knowing that the room was occupied; it could invite trouble into the inn. He knew that Kethravyn had set up wards (which he was delighted to walk right through – the perks of having taught her how to lay them), but wards couldn't hold everything. If something like a Swarm suddenly decided to pour into the inn, they would not be safe for long.

What he felt was blinding pain and heat; total and utter chaos and rage and frenzy. He was filled with a strong, burning desire for sex and blood and pain and violence, one that terrified him enough to cause him to back up off of the bed and away from Kethry as he tried to close his mind to what he was receiving. Yes, he was talented – perhaps _the_ most, but all the shock and trauma didn't help him with his progress, and it _certainly_ didn't do him any good when he'd opened his mind up to what had been a group of Rakdos devotees starting a riot in the market.

"Oh – Agh!" he cried out, putting his hands over his face and scrubbing his eyes like it would matter. "Stay over there, Kethry. Get dressed!" he commanded.

She took only a moment to look bewildered before doing exactly as he commanded, though his sudden stumbling, but when he raised his voice, she did as she was told without any protest. She was thankful for the momentary respite they'd had, which they didn't have often, and that he'd mostly eradicated her nausea and pounding headache (though not totally, but she could manage). By the time she'd pulled on her leather pants, he was crouched over with his hands on his knees, trying to steady himself. Apparently it was his turn to vomit.

"Jace?" she said experimentally, a pause in her rush to dress. She had tugged the short revealing undershirt on and then the lighter, flowing linen over that, and she had it half-over her head while she waited to gauge his reaction. When he didn't speak right away, she finished pulling the shirt down and took a step towards him, a hand out cautiously.

"DON'T!" he commanded. "Rakdos," he spat, reeling back and dropping to his behind, knees up as he pressed his back flat to the wall.

Kethry recoiled instantly. She sat down on the bed only to pull her knee-high boots on, then rolled off of it into a standing position and grabbed her bag. She snatched her knives up off of the wardrobe and began strapping them down to her thighs and sliding them into her boots. With a final grab, her black cloak was ripped from the little crooked nail above the door and secured around her neck, the hood pooling behind her messy hair.

She focused on Jace now, lips pressed together in a pensive line. They always agreed not to interfere with eachother, but if there were Rakdos followers stirring up the market, more would come. They were attracted to chaos like moths to a flame, and they didn't exactly feel endeared to blue mages. The fact that there were a lot of people on the hunt for Jace's blood at the moment also didn't help. That Kethry was with him would only make her collateral damage, or worse yet, a tool to use against him (or the other way around).

He felt like he was going to explode. He was full of thoughts and feelings that weren't his own – despite his raw talent, he could still bite off much more than he could chew, and he was afraid

that he would hurt her. Kethravyn was a capable fighter, as well as a capable blue adept (even if she'd taken to learning the red magics recently, which she kept from him but he knew anyways), but Jace was bigger than she was, and he was stronger both physically and mentally. If he wanted to hurt her, he could, and he would. It was horrifying that he was aware of that fact right then, and even worse that he was considering how easily he could do it.

"Get back!" he snapped, and found that she wasn't inclined to listen. He felt her hands fix on either side of his face as the warmth of her body told him that she had knelt down beside him. She leaned in and pressed her forehead to his, opening her own floodgates.

"To me, Jace," she told him softly, instructing him to let the madness flow out of him and into her. He found that it was incredibly hard to let go of and realized that he had some repression he'd need to handle at a later date, but after a few seconds of having no success, he felt her gentle, inviting lull, and found that he couldn't resist it.

Kethry gritted her teeth as she felt the transfer. She was suddenly overwhelmed with the same out-of-control emotions that Jace had just been burdened with, but because she was prepared, she was able to filter it through. There were a few seconds where Jace had to avoid her writhing and baring her teeth, but it was over as quickly as it had begun for her, and he was eternally grateful once again that he had found her.

"Thank you," he said sincerely. "Now, let's get out of here before we get ripped in half."


	2. The Vanishing

They ran down the hall of the inn, the din outside turning into a full-fledged riot. Kethry stopped Jace before he had a chance to go down the stairs, and pointed above her head. "Wait," she advised. "Let's get up onto the roof and see what the situation looks like. We can just hump it from there. All the buildings here are pretty close, so we should be able to drop off in an alley not far."

Jace hesitated, then looked down the stairwell. There were people starting to come into the inn, and they were not of the calm variety. "Okay," he nodded. "Let's do it." With that, he held his hands out for Kethry to balance herself on, allowing her to reach the panel and pry it open. She hoisted herself up, then set to navigating the rafters to the ventilation window that would be their escape while he pulled himself up and replaced the panel. She was fairly certain they would both fit through it, at least, and when she couldn't find the latch for it, she gave it a swift kick with the bottom of her booted foot.

Out on the rooftop, Jace realized how _high_ they actually were. He raised his eyebrows as he lifted the hood of his cloak back over his slightly-too-long dark brown hair. He'd have to get Kethry to take one of her razor-sharp knives to it eventually, or he'd be stealing her ribbons.

"Jace, over here!" she called, her voice hushed, but urgent. He turned to observe his partner scaling one of the higher arches of the inn and silently prayed she didn't fall and kill herself. He knew better then to doubt her physical abilities, but at the same time, this was also the woman who'd spent the better part of her evening (and morning) vomiting all over the very inn upon which they climed.

As he drew near, the sun fell low against the spired and gothique city-planet. The commotion of the Rakdos riot had grown to epic proportions in such a short time, and he realized that it could only mean one thing: the Defiler was awake. Suddenly, the earlier issue he'd had with the energy he'd taken in made sense, and he grit his teeth as he climbed up to Kethry's vantage point. "Kethry," he said, his voice holding a note of warning to it. It was often how he said her name; were she a faithful pet rather than his traveling companion, her name may have been 'No'.

"Just – shut up and stop worrying for a second," she chided, glancing over her shoulder as he pulled himself up to her side. Her eyes were _glittering_, full of curiosity and a mischievous sort of interest that made Jace incredibly uneasy. When she became rapt in something, she would be hard-pressed to let it go, and he didn't need her suddenly feeling the call of the Rakdos cult and stripping down to dance naked beneath the blood-drenched heights of their conclaves. "Look," she whispered.

He looked. The riot was honestly more of a parade, a sort of carnival, but it was terrible. The Wojeks had been overpowered by the Rix Maadi guildmages that seemed to command the display, their horrific costumes of jester-like design decorated with blood and bone fragments of their deceased victims. They danced wildly on top of litters carried by skeletal roustabouts that were armed to the teeth with wicked scythes and serrated blades that were tipped with rust. The entire bazaar was overrun, and it was also _on fire_.

"Yawgmoth's tail," he hissed. "Kethry, as delightfully terrifying as this carnage carnival is, we shouldn't be here, much less spectating only a few stories above the Rix Maadi mages," he advised. He was all set to climb down when she unwrapped one of her arms around the spire she clung to and thumped him in the shoulder.

"Jace!" she protested. "Come _on_. You're a Planeswalker. You can just blast us out of here if we're spotted – and besides that, you're like, the master of illusions," she said, emphasizing the word with a comical, mocking sound to her voice. "It isn't like they're even going to spot us up here, let alone come up here and get us. Please?" she said, scrunching her face up in the most adorable way. "Just for a little. I just want to watch," she begged.

He lowered his head to the tiles that lined the roof, softly bumping it against the scratchy-textured shingles. "Fine," he conceded, a heavy sigh forming the word. "But _only_ for a little, Kethravyn," he said, laying down the terms of his agreement. He used her full name, trying to convey how serious he was. He rolled his eyes when she jumped around in place, pulling herself up higher and situating against the crook between the peak of the roof and the ornamental spire on which she'd been steadying herself.

"Come on, come up and watch with me," she encouraged. She held her hand down for him, helping to yank him up to the peak. He sat on the apex, letting his legs hang down the slope. She may have wanted to watch the insanity below them, but Jace was more interested in the sunset. The ecumenopolis was simply breathtaking as the light dipped below the horizon. Everything was bathed in purple and red light – even the parts of the city not subject to the pillars of fire caused by the Rix Maadi.

"This is wild," she whispered to herself, unaware that he wasn't even facing the same direction. "I've seen the aftermath of these things, but I've never had a front-row seat to it."

"You're still so young and stupid," Jace mused, though he did make a point to look over at her with a smile.

"I'm not that much younger than you," she shot back, glancing at him for a half-second before returning her gaze to the display. "And if I were stupid, you would never have stayed with me," she said, a sly grin on her mouth.

"That's true," he acknowledged, nodding his head and suppressing a laugh. "This stuff really interests you?" he asked, unable to hide his shock. There were some things they didn't discuss; he didn't discuss Liliana and Kethry didn't discuss... anything personal of herself, actually. It was more surprising that this just occurred to him than anything else.

"Yeah," she said absently. "It's a long story," she said, waving her hand.

"A story you owe me sometime," he informed her; it was phrased like a casual comment, but Kethry didn't fool herself into thinking it was a request.

"Alright," she said suddenly, straightening. "We should probably go."

"Why?" he asked, turning back to her again. He couldn't help but be a little surprised at her sudden interest in leaving when she'd just been enthralled by the crowd.

"Because," she said, swinging her legs against the slope and preparing to move down to the flat platform of the construct below. "The Rix Maadi mage over there spotted us." And with that, she was gone, sliding quickly to the bottom and rolling to absorb the sudden impact. She popped up straight, gesturing to Jace. "We should move," she called up, thumbing to the way she intended to take.

"I think it's a little late for that," he said, his voice flat. He pointed. Kethry turned, and found herself staring directly into the dark brown eyes of a human Rix Maadi mage.

"Hello, Kethravyn," he said, his voice full of malice. He raised his hand and pushed the skeletal mask up, revealing his face. Black kohl lined his eyes and mouth, giving him the appearance of a dead mime. His black leather costume was thick, obviously worn from conflicts and showing its age with rips and folds in the fabric. There was also blood spattered across the front of it, and it was still dripping from the blade he held in his hand. His free hand wasn't free anymore, either – it was gripped tightly around her arm.

"Aethen," she breathed, her voice catching in her throat. Jace could feel the panic rolling off of her in waves, and he made to slide down after her, but the mage raised his sword, pointing at Jace with the tip of it. A drop of blood slid off of it, decorating Kethry's pale cheek.

"Another move, Beleren, and I'll slit her throat," he promised.

"Jace, stay where you are," she ordered, her voice a beat quicker and higher than normal. _Fear_. "He means it."

"I'm so glad that you still retain that common sense of yours," he purred into her ear, his long black hair tickling at her neck. His eyes caught the blood from his sword, and he stuck his tongue out and licked it off, causing Kethry to close her eyes and fight back a wave of nausea.

"What do you want?" she demanded.

"We have unfinished business downstairs," Aethen informed her, a cruel smile flickering across his black mouth. "And you," he said, pointing to Jace again, "are not invited."

"I could flay your mind before you could _blink_," Jace threatened, but he stayed where he was. Liliana's death was still to recent, and he couldn't risk losing another friend so quickly, however mad he was.

"You could, but not while I have this," he taunted, grinning at the Blue Adept. He flashed his hand up for the other Blue mages to see, and Kethry swallowed hard when she realized what he was trying to flaunt. It was a mox that nullified Blue magic, an incredibly rare artifact fashioned into a ring that had been supposedly lost during old guild conflicts. It had originally been held by the Dimir House, though since the fabled tenth guild technically hadn't existed for many, many years, she assumed it had been found and kept quiet up until the Rix Maadi had come across it. She didn't want to think about how many people he'd killed to get it.

Aethen turned to Kethry, his eyes narrowing. "There is someone who's been waiting for far too long to be reunited with his favourite little spy."

"_Kethry?_" Jace demanded, his voice full of shock. He stared down at her, struggling to keep his composure, but it was hard. He couldn't do anything at the moment that he wasn't positive would get his friend killed, and he was interested in keeping her alive long enough to find out what she'd been hiding. After that, he might kill her himself.

"So it seems our Kethry of many talents has been hiding her areas of expertise from her little friend," Aethen said, mocking a shocked voice. "I'd have thought the 'great and powerful' Jace Beleren could have sensed when he was being lied to," he added.

"Stop it, Aethen," she begged. He shrugged, then said a few words in the infernal tongue of Rakdos to transport them to the pits.

"I _will_ find you, Kethry," Jace swore, clenching his fist as he looked into her eyes. He may not have been able to use his ability, but he knew her well enough (or so he thought) to read her, and she was putting on a brave face and a sharp attitude to keep attention on herself. She was scared, but more so, she was trying to – to protect him? It was as though she was trying to keep him away. Obviously she had something to hide, but there was no way Kethravyn could take on the Rakdos followers on her own when she was in the thick of their pit.

"Go to the Sunken Gardens in the Temple of Selesnya," she commanded Jace. "Ask for Iosa. Tell him my name, and tell him anything he asks," she begged. "Jace, I -" and her voice was cut short as she disappeared. The betrayal of Liliana flickered through his mind, and he felt his entire body begin to shake as he watched the Rix Maadi vanish into thin air with the woman who was the only person in his life that mattered at the moment who was still alive.

He needed to keep her that way. As soon as the mage had gone and the influence of the mox void, Jace dropped back down onto the peak, feeling sick. He had a thousand questions, none of which he could get answers for right then because the only person who could answer them had just been taken. _Spy?_ Why had she told him to go to the Selesnya Conclave at the last minute? And what did the person who she had told him to ask for mean to her?

More importantly, what else had she been lying about?


	3. The Sanctuary

Inside the Selesnya Sanctuary, he felt out of place. Painfully so, actually. It had taken him longer than he'd have liked to get there, but it couldn't be helped. The Rakdos horde was still covering the streets closest to his location, and he needed to stick to the rooftops, just as Kethry had suggested initially, until he could get far enough away to hit the streets again. It also didn't help that there were orders to kill him on sight from _too many _people who took issue with him, and all of them were loyal to Tezzeret.

The Sunken Gardens were dark, lit only by soft white wisps floating silently around the pillars. They seemed to be there of their own accord, and it occurred to Jace that they may have liked the safety the temple gave them. They were weak creatures by nature, often manipulated by mages to draw fire during casting. He'd never really considered them one way or the other before, and realized that the Selesnyan energy may have been influencing his already-emotional state.

"You have a reverence for life, Planeswalker. Don't deny yourself that. It's a gift too many have lost," a thin voice said. He turned to face an elderly man in a dark green cloak. The wisps began flocking around him, and he laughed, a deep rumbling noise – much more than his speaking voice – and lifted his tall wooden staff to shoo them away. Most of them retreated back to their quiet gathering while one or two settled on the mox emerald that was embedded in the top of his staff.

"How would you know?" Jace snapped. He didn't feel very reverent at the moment, and he certainly didn't feel like having a lecture from an old temple priest. "Be on your way, priest. I have no time for life lessons."

"I know, Mind Sculptor, because I know who you are, and I know your trouble," he said, nodding. "Nobody comes to this place by mistake or for simple reflection," he added. He smiled, stepping past Jace. He must have been ancient; he was an elf, but his hair had long since grayed and his skin was no longer smooth. Jace thought better than his next comment based on that aspect alone – elders had their moments of lucidity, and Kethry had trusted this place. He had to trust her, however hard that might have been right then.

"I seek Iosa," he said, eyes never leaving the old man as he continued towards the inside of the temple. Jace followed, because he felt a compulsion to aside from the fact that he needed information. "Can you tell me where I can find h- oh," he finished flatly. The man had sat down on the steps just inside the temple, the two wisps leaving his staff and floating to the top, bathing them in a low light.

"Like I said, Mind Sculptor. I know your trouble," the elder said. He smiled again, this time less enthused, but no less sincerely.

"Could you maybe _not_ call me that? Jace is fine," he said, dropping down on the steps next to the man. "And if you know my trouble, I don't need to tell you anything. What do I do?"

The elf looked at him and sighed, then turned his gaze upward at the wisps. "How much do you know about those creatures?" he asked. He obviously wasn't in any hurry to answer Jace.

Jace shifted uncomfortably and sighed, realizing that this wasn't going to be easy. "Not much," he said honestly. "Black mages use them as canon fodder. Almost drove them into extinction a long time ago, from what I understood. Little else besides that."

"They are extremely shy," Iosa said. "That one up there, the one on the left? That's the one that showed up first. It was many years ago, long before you were born," he added, glancing at the young human Planeswalker. "That one was here for a very long time by itself. Then, one day, I came to the temple to pray... and there was another one. People say that wisps don't have any real thought process and can't feel emotion, but I would be hard-pressed to believe it after what I saw that day. Its light was so bright it rivaled the brightest star in the sky. It was _happiness_, child. The completion."

Jace wasn't sure where the old man was headed, and he sighed through his nose, unable to hide his frustration. "What's your point?" he asked.

"Tell me what you see when you look at them," he said. "Can you still pick out the one I was referring to?" He tilted his head up and looked at the same time the Blue Adept did, but all of the wisps had suddenly communed in the ceiling of the temple. Their light was radiant and beautiful, but there were so many of them that it was hard to pick out just one individual wisp.

Jace narrowed his eyes a little. "There it his," he said suddenly, hand raising to point at the first wisp.

"How can you tell?" Iosa asked him, tilting his head.

"It's... not as bright," Jace responded, unable to hide his wonder. "Why?"

"Because, my son, the wisp that followed it here is now part of the consciousness of Mat'Selesnya. Despite all of the talk that wisps aren't sentient beings, I can assure you that they are. Wisps are the sweetest, most gentle creatures you will ever have the pleasure of seeing. They love deeply and endlessly, and they bond with their chosen for life. When that bond is broken, wisps pass on."

Jace raised his eyebrows a little, taking the information in. He had never used wisps in his own battles, but he probably wouldn't ever feel a compulsion to after _that_. "So they just... burn out?" he asked, trying to understand. The wisp that they had been speaking about flew down, hovering just over Jace for a moment before settling on his bent knee.

"I think it likes you," Iosa said. "And I'm sure you're wondering what this has to do with anything, but the wisps aren't the only things that just showed up here one day."

"Kethry," Jace said slowly. He couldn't resist sticking a finger out to the wisp, which floated up to it and perched silently. He could feel the warmth coming from it.

"Open your mind, Adept Beleren," Iosa advised him.

Jace did as he was told, and found that the wisp _actually had_ conscious thought. It wasn't in a language, exactly, but it was emotion and raw feeling, and it moved in a fluid pattern like speech might. He could feel happiness and comfort, but then confusion as Iosa began to speak again.

"Kethry came to me many moons ago. She was in trouble, and she needed a place to hide. The Selesnya as a whole can be hypocritical at times about our methods of battle, but I personally am too old for fighting. She needed help, and I gave it to her. There is nothing about that child that I do not know. She trusts rarely, but when it is given, it is freely and completely," he told Jace.

"Hold on – why does it feel like this wisp is sad?" Jace asked, waving his free hand to stop Iosa. "When you started talking about Kethravyn, it felt so... depressed," he said, struggling to find the right word to describe the feeling.

"After that wisp's own pairing passed on to Mat'Selesnya, it took a shine to Kethry. Once a wisp bonds, remember, it is bonded for life."

"But I thought - " Jace began.

The elf cut him off with a wave. "There are many different types of bonds, child. You should know. You have experienced different types in your own history," he added. "And you do know Kethry. She is easy to love."

"I don't know about that," Jace said, a frown twisting on his face. The wisp flickered with anger at his words and flew away in what could only be described as a huff. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to speak ill on her, but we _are_ talking about the same Kethry, right? The one who drinks herself into a belligerent stupor and has fun scaring merchants by spitting fire at them in the markets? The one who steals, cheats, lies, and fights as naturally as she breathes air?"

"The one who stopped you from completely losing your mind and falling in your own sword?" the elf prompted him. He was still smiling, but it was no longer as friendly. "You seem to forget that little part of your history with her."

Jace fell silent, for the moment feeling properly admonished. "She drinks to excess because she takes on the burden of your pain so that you can function on a daily basis, or are you not aware of that?" the elf said, his tone lacking warmth. "She doesn't have to stay with you. She has other things she could be doing – other things she should be doing. She puts herself in the path of danger every second that she is with you."

"I know I make it hard for her, but Kethry is a big girl, and she makes her own decisions. And besides, I'm getting better about.. things," Jace said defensively. He felt like baring his teeth at the elder. He knew that things weren't always easy for Kethry, or for him, and he had tried to get her to go numerous times. It wouldn't work. She didn't go anywhere she didn't want, and that included away from him. Honestly, he didn't want her to, however hard that was to admit. She helped him a lot, to the point where he was worried he depended on her a little too much. He'd been planning to address it later, but she'd been... taken.

The green and white priest rolled his eyes. "While everything you said about her is true, I have to ask... what do you know about her? I'm sure by know she has your entire history, or at least what you're willing to tell her – and maybe even things you weren't willing that she got out of you anyways."

"Not much," Jace answered honestly. "She doesn't speak about herself a lot. I am a little shocked to know that someone in the Rakdos cult powerful enough to care just snatched her off the street right in front of _me_ though." He wasn't being egotistical, at least – most people who knew who he was that didn't want to kill him wanted to be as far away from him as possible. That was best for their health.

"Kethravyn Zhal... is from a very, very prolific lineage that has been stricken from every record, public and private, on this plane. There is a reason that she stood out to you, Mind Sculptor. Her blood sings to magic, especially of the Blue variety. And your power is attracted to like, which is why you always seem to be in trouble," he added with a smirk.

"Why would her lineage be erased from the records?" Jace asked, his brow furrowed.

"Because she's distantly related to the founder of the House Dimir. Kethravyn is so talented with magic because it literally runs through her veins. She can pass as human because of how many generations her lineage has been diluted down, but Szadek is very aware that she is one of the only surviving daughters he has, and you'd better believe she's held court with her dear old dad over the years. The reason someone from Rakdos' faction has a quarrel with her is because she's no doubt been pimped out by House Dimir for her skills and had dealings with them in the past."

Jace couldn't believe what he was hearing. "House Dimir doesn't _exist_," he insisted, pushing up off the steps. "This is insane," he snapped. "Even if it did exist, why would anyone from the Rakdos cult need an assassin from Dimir to do their own dirty work? They have no qualms about killing eachother as it is."

"Killing, sure. But her abilities... you've seen them, boy. You've felt them. Rakdos followers concentrate so much on Red and Black magics that they never stop to consider what else is out there. But they're all so fond of betrayal and lying and stealing that if one of them had a way, they would certainly hire someone to help take out all of their opponents on the way to the top."

He stopped talking suddenly, looking at Jace. "I wish I could tell you that's what it was, boy, but it's so much worse."

"How much worse could it possibly be?" Beleren asked, his irritation and anger peaking.

"The House loaned her out to a Blood Witch who was essentially the high priestess of Rakdos. The demon was the one interested in her abilities. Not any human or otherwise creature. The Defiler, Jace."

Jace felt like he was going to pass out. "She kept saying she didn't want to be in Ravnica, but I told her it'd be another week," he whispered, feeling numb all over. "She set wards up in such a strange pattern, but she didn't say anything else, didn't even let on. When the riot started today she was so interested, like she couldn't help herself but watch. DAMNIT!" he exclaimed, raising his voice so suddenly that the wisps all scattered quickly, plunging them in a moment of darkness.

The wisp that had bonded to Kethry was the only one to return, hovering around Jace as he began to pace, as though it were spotlighting him.

"She couldn't help but watch, Iosa. She was in a thrall," he said, his voice triumphant. Figuring out what had happened didn't help his situation, any. "The riot was deliberate. Rakdos knew that she would have been in his presence long enough to have been Touched with his influence. He probably inspired the riots all over Ravnica, trying to flush her out. And I let her walk right into it," he said, trailing off.

"Now is not the time to add any more personal guilt to your pile, Adept," Iosa warned him. "Kethry sent you here because she needed you to know the truth. She wouldn't have lied to you unless it was to protect you, and given her involvement with something that technically doesn't exist, I'd say she had a good reason. She asked several times for you to take her to a different Plane, so you can't say that she was trying to keep you. Right now, all I see is the fact that your traveling companion and _friend_ is in trouble, and she is relying on you to get her out of it."

"But _how_?" he demanded. "I have enemies all over this city. There's no way I can get all the way down into the Rix Maadi without putting her at risk," Jace protested.

"Having enemies all over this place has never seemed to have been a problem for you before, Mind Sculptor," Iosa said sharply. "Don't use your fear as a pretense for putting Kethry at risk. She is your bond to handle," he added.

"_Bond_?" Jace spat, ironically right as her wisp nestled onto his shoulder.

"Yes, your bond. Have you touched her mind? Has she allowed you into hers? However brief, it's all it takes for her. She is like a wisp, Adept. You should have realized that on your first glimpse. Or is your opinion of yourself so low that you don't think anyone could ever devote themselves to you so fully?" he asked, driving his point home like a dagger to Jace's heart.

"She's from a race of psychic vampires, regardless of how deeply diluted her blood is, Beleren. For her to allow you into her head, regardless of the situation, is a very intimate thing for her. She wouldn't have told you because to do so would have put the both of you in more danger than you already are. I hope whatever you were in her mind for was worth all the trouble it's about to cause," the priest said. It sounded as though he were admonishing Jace like a protective parent was.

"No – this is ridiculous! Earlier she said she'd just seen the aftermath of the riot festivals, that she'd never been in them up close! So she lied?" he asked, throwing his hands up in frustration.

"Jace, what's more important to you? Her cover, which she used to protect both you and herself, or her life? You can scold her later, child. You can even leave her, if you want. But she's on her way to being taken before Rakdos, _The Defiler_, right now, and she is holding onto the idea that you are coming to get her. And Jace, if you can't, she will expect you to kill her. Rakdos can't..."

"Unfortunate implications," Jace exclaimed, holding his hands up. "I get it, Iosa, I get it. How am I going to get in there?" he said, pushing right along.

"Leave it to me," the elder promised. He gestured for Jace to help him up, which he did, and the man motioned for him to follow along as he lead him down the path away from the temple and towards the grove where homes had been fashioned into the trees.

"I don't think I can kill her, Iosa," he said, hurrying after him.

"You won't have a problem making that decision if it comes into question," the elder assured him, glancing over his shoulder as he walked. "You need to tap into her mind as soon as you make contact. You'll kill her because you'll have to, Jace. If Rakdos gets inside her head, it will be all you can think to do to break the link. I'm sorry, but it will be the only way."

Jace's heart felt like it had fallen into his stomach. The day had started so ordinarily. Why was this happening? He couldn't seem to catch a break. Liliana, Kallist – now Kethry? He cursed himself for not probing her mind harder, finding the things she had hidden and protecting her from them.

"This isn't your fault, child," the elder said, as though he had heard his thoughts. He lead him into a small hut that held only a desk with books and other mystic items on it. He opened a box and pulled something out, then turned and motioned for Jace to hold out his hand.

"This is something that will keep you hidden from Rakdos and his followers. You'll be able to move freely – but it will only work for a certain amount of time. After that, you're on your own, I'm afraid. It should be enough to get you through the harder parts, at the very least – if you can use your abilities to create the right illusions, you shouldn't have to worry about the rest."

Jace took the ring from the elf and slid it onto the smallest finger of his left hand. He noticed that it changed shape to fit better, and he raised an eyebrow, then looked back up at the elf. "I know it's not my fault, Iosa. But it's still bad."

The elf looked at him for a long time, then simply nodded and patted him on the shoulder. "Then you'll have to make it right, Mind Sculptor. Kethry has faith in you, and for that, you have my own. May Mat'Selesnya watch over you," he said, giving a short bow.


	4. The Gore-House Chain Walk

Kethry was lead through the underground in a rush, Aethen practically dragging her behind him. She knew where they were going simply because she'd been there before, but she couldn't help the sinking feeling that she'd never be getting out alive. Aethen only reinforced this by berating her and stopping every hundred or so feet to hit her as hard as he absolutely could, which was pretty hard. By the time they'd stepped into the dungeon palace of Rix Maadi, Kethry could barely stand on her own. One of her eyes was nearly swollen shut, and she was fairly certain her nose was broken, as were a few ribs.

"You've been summoned by the Dark Lord, my dear. I hope you said your goodbyes – oh wait," he paused, a slasher grin spreading across his face. "You didn't. I was there. Too bad. Jace certainly seemed to be rather upset. Oh well!" he cheered, clapping his hands together. "Off with you," he commanded, thrusting her into the care of a Blood Witch.

"Eirza, take her to the Dark Lord. He ordered her alive, but he didn't specify as to what condition, so, you can interpret that as you wish," he instructed. He turned on the heel of his boot and vanished in a stench of sulfur and flame.

"So," the Witch said, regarding Kethry with distaste. She crouched down to where the woman had fallen, reaching down with a thin hand to tip Kethry's chin up. "Let me get a look at you..." she murmured, observing the damage that had been inflicted. "I'd say not to take this personally, but Aethen really has it in for you. He was the one whose idea it was to riot throughout the city and flush you out. I don't think he anticipated Beleren being with you. Must be why he took off so fast. I sincerely doubt he'll be anything but scarce for the next few years," she mused.

"Please," Kethry urged, her voice laboured by the pain in her side. Definitely a broken rib, possibly more. It was hard to tell. "Please, let me go. My father is -"

"Stop," the Witch commanded. With a wave of her hand, Kethry stopped, unwilling to invite more damage to her body. "I know who your father is. I also know that in favour of not exposing the House, he's washing his hands of this. As far as Szadek is concerned, you don't exist." She stood up, snapping at Kethry to stand as well.

"Sorry, sweetie," she said, though she didn't sound sorry at all. "You're on your own." She paused, tilting her head. "And I'm to bring you at once to the pit." With that, she tossed her long, dark hair over her shoulder and took Kethry, albeit more gently then Aethen had, by the arm.

As they entered the great hall of the dungeon palace, it erupted into total madness. The followers of Rakdos had gathered en masse, and they all looked on as Kethry was lead in by the Witch Eirza. They didn't dare try to interfere with Eirza as she forced Kethry through the crowd, though that didn't do much to diminish their berserk chanting and screaming. Kethry jerked back suddenly as she was hit with something. She felt warm liquid running down her head and her face, and looked up into the ceiling of the hall, feeling her stomach drop.

Blood. The Gore-House Chain Walker had just coated Kethry with the blood from the dead sacrifice that he carried across the tight-rope chain.

"No!" Kethry cried, jerking back. The crowd formed a circle around her and Eirza, and the hall fell silent. "No, take me to Rakdos!" she screamed, feeling herself give in to the panic and fear inside of her. If she was to die, she would die by the hands of the Dark Lord, _not_ to the rioters. If she fell from the chain, she'd go right into the crowd, and she was certain they'd rip her limb from limb... and that was if she was lucky.

"Sorry, darling, you know the ru-ules!" Eirza sang. She turned to a large goblin who twice dwarfed her tall frame in size, and pointed to Kethry. "Get her up on that rope. Let's give the Dark Lord a show before he's to have his prize," she commanded.

"NO!" Kethry screamed. She turned to run, reaching for the knife strapped to her thigh. Her fingers brushed air, and she swore as she realized that Aethen had stripped her weapons as soon as they'd gotten into the underground. She was caught almost instantly, maniacal laughter filling her ears as the goblin lifted her up above his head.

"If you fight me, you will walk that chain with a broken leg," the goblin threatened in his broken accent. "This is an honor, girl. You will do well to receive it." And with that, he threw her over his shoulder and began climbing the series of rickety steps and poorly-constructed scaffolding that lead to the chain.

He dropped Kethry down at the edge of the platform, nearly causing her to topple over. She stumbled, feet dancing along the precipice, saved only from her fall by his strong, grey arm thrusting out and snatching her by her hair to yank her back. He released her and took a step back, crossing his muscular arms over his chest.

"Walk." It was not a request, it was a command. When she didn't immediately move, he drew an axe from a sheath at his back and took a step forward. "_Walk_, human," he hissed, and he pointed at her with the axe. "Or I will remove one of your feet."

Kethry turned, trembling, and squeezed her eyes open and closed. It did nothing for the damage to her left eye, and her right was watering so badly she could barely focus. "I can't _see_," she pleaded.

"Not. My. Problem," the goblin responded. She felt the cold steel of the axe against her cheek, watching as the blade effortlessly sliced some of her hair off. It fell to the dirty platform, and she took a step towards the chain.

_KETHRY!_

The shout flooded her mind, causing her to teeter for a moment. She dropped to a knee, the sudden onslaught of a voice in her head causing her an intense wave of nausea. She wasn't used to mind speech, not of that magnitude. _Jace? JACE? I'm on the scaffolding! Are you here? Can you see me?_ She looked over her shoulder at the goblin, who seemed satisfied that she was at least moving towards the chain, and he merely gazed on, impartial to the situation at hand.

_I'm here. I see you. Don't look for me; I'm using the ring from Iosa to cloak myself until I can get to you. _Jace was moving rapidly through the crowd until he reached the other side of the chain where Kethry would inevitably end up – if she could make it across, anyways. He looked up, restraining himself from a low whistle as he estimated the height. Several stories, at least, but it was no different than some of the stupid stunts he'd witnessed Kethry pull when he'd first met her.

_You can do this, Kethry. I will be with you all the way. As soon as you get to the other side, I will be there, and I will get you __**out**__ of here. Just listen to my voice, Kethravyn. I promise, you will not fall. I __will not let you fall_, he swore.

She stood back up, looking over her shoulder again to the goblin. "Okay," she whispered. "I'm going." At her word, he put his hands to his mouth and howled, the sound bouncing all around the structure and into the crowd below. A slow, steady chant rose from the rioters and Rix Maadi mages beneath as roustabouts swept through the crowds, dragging the dead bodies out from the thrum of the mass.

She took a deep, shaky breath, and stepped out onto the chain. _Please, Jace, please don't let me fall,_ she begged. She had never let him in her head when she was under duress before, and she realized that he could poke around with ease.

_Don't think like that, Kethry. I already know everything you weren't telling me. Iosa explained everything, and I'm not mad. I understand why you did what you did. Just concentrate on my voice,_ he instructed her.

She began to move.

_I have someone with me you'll want to see,_ Jace said, switching gears. Inside his cloak hid the little wisp that Iosa had said was so fond of Kethry. When he'd left, it had followed him. He hadn't even noticed it right away, not until it stopped him from getting lost in the tunnels. He realized it was trying to lead him in the right direction, and started actually following it, allowing it to 'talk' to him with the small waves of emotion it could convey.

_Who?_ She made it a few more feet, using the feel of him in her head to anchor her. It had never occurred to her how much she trusted him until that very moment. If he ever got her out of this, things between them would be forever changed, and it made her worry that he would move on. She knew he still missed Liliana because he was honest with her, and she was aware that he did not have room in his heart for another woman. Upon that thought, she stumbled.

_Don't even think that, Kethry_, Jace said, unable to hide the tone to his voice. The downside of being in her head was that all of her thoughts came to him freely and unfiltered, and things that had gone on unaddressed were inevitably coming to the surface. _I trust you with my life. Please know how much that means._

She took a deep breath, realizing she was about halfway across the chain, and steadied herself by holding her hands out slightly. She closed her eyes. _Who's here with you?_

_Someone who misses you very much_, he promised. _You're halfway there, Kethry. Keep going. I'm not far._

The crowd below here was going absolutely wild, and she felt a bolt of power tip her hard to the right. She slipped off the chain, barely catching herself with a hand before she fell the entire height of the room down to the ravenous group below. "JACE!" she screamed aloud alongside the plea in her head. She was in absolute terror, swinging her legs around to try and give herself enough momentum to get back up onto the chain. Unfortunately for her, someone besides Jace heard her plea.

_Kethry! Listen to me! _He couldn't suspend the emotion from his voice, and he was ashamed that the fear was translating through, but his own ego wasn't the point at the moment. _Remember when we first met? You were on the tallest spire in Ravnica and you were running from the Wojeks. They were __sending winged infantry after you and you darted across the ropes for the solstice festivals to me so I could bounce us off the Plane. You were so surefooted and determined that you absolutely could get to me before they got to you that you didn't even stop shouting insults at them._

She managed to pull herself back up onto the chain and she crept into a standing position as slowly as she possibly could, arms out again. Somewhere in the crowd, Eizra swore to herself that her attempt to knock her off the chain had failed. She wouldn't risk interference again, or the Dark Lord would be displeased that his prize had been killed.

_I can't do this_, she whispered. She remained stagnant on the chain, only fifteen or twenty feet from the other platform.

_Yes, you can, Kethry. Look_, he commanded her. When he felt her trying to push him out of her head, he gritted his teeth and forced himself back in, this time painfully. _I'm truly sorry for this, but you need to stop being so stubborn for once in your life and __**listen**__ to me. __**Look**__, Kethry._

She flinched from the sudden pain of the invasion in her head. He meant business, so she looked. Before her, the surroundings warped and bent, the scene melting from the terrifying vision of the Rix Maadi to the rooftops from where she'd run from the Wojeks. She could actually feel the warm sunlight and the soft breeze of spring through her hair as she stood, juxtaposed between the onslaught of angelic guards and Jace's outstretched hand.

_To me, Kethry. Come to me,_ he said softly.

She nodded, took a deep breath, and ran the rest of the chain. The crowd fell totally silent for about a half a second until her toes touched the second platform and then broke out into radical cheering. Bright flashes of flames shot up from the costumed denizens, celebrating wildly as someone completed the Gore-House Chain Walk.

_Jace?_

She was met with silence. She turned around in a circle, scanning the crowd frantically as she searched for him. He'd said he was cloaked, so she realized it was futile, but she couldn't even feel him in her head, and the absence of his presence terrified her. "Jace?" she sobbed, both aloud and in her head. There was nothing. Nothing except a firm grip on her arm as a winged denizen of the Dark Lord jerked her away from the ledge.

"He will see you now," the imp hissed. He raised his clawed hand to her and placed it on her forehead, preparing to deliver her to unconsciousness.

"JACE!" she screamed, blood and tears running down her face.

Everything went black.


	5. The Bowl of Blood

Eirza had been a busy girl. High Priestess was now hers to claim, as the last Blood Witch had been disposed of – the halfling-vampire could be thanked for that, though she'd never admit it. When Kethry had decided that she'd had enough of the pit life, she'd terminated her contract in the best way a member of Dimir could: she terminated the woman who'd contracted her. Unfortunately for the Blue Adept, Rakdos wasn't done with her yet, and since Eirza was his new Priestess, the responsibility had fallen to her.

Of course, she couldn't allow herself to take the burden of finding the little shit alone. She found the Rix Maadi mage that actually seemed to have taken interest in their houseguest, and employed him with promise of a pleasurable reward for retrieving the girl. She never specified what the reward would be, exactly, but a glimpse into his blood told her that he would have accepted no substitutes for the pink-and-platinum drunk. The people of Rakdos took their defiling seriously, it seemed.

Eirza was no different. As a human female in the cult of Rakdos, she had her fair share of atrocities and crimes committed against man and gods alike, both that she had been victim of and participated in. The Touch of Rakdos, however, had bent her mind; she'd been exposed to the demon for so long that she had a skewed sense of reality, which was that there was no _actual_ reality. Things existed because Rakdos allowed them to exist, and they were all pieces of his creation for his amusement alone, therefore if Rakdos willed her to slit the throats of her sisters of the Blood and choose siblings anew, she would see it done. She could hardly expect special treatment – before, anyways. Now? Now she had privilege.

One such privilege, which she delighted in, was making the acquaintance of the Planeswalker that had infiltrated Rix Maadi. She had noticed him, or rather, the bubble of distortion _around_ him, right around the time that she had thrown a spell at Kethry to try and knock her off the chain. The sacrifice could not be the one who successfully walked the Chain; the crowd would _not_ act favourably. She knew that the rules of chaos and pandemonium were at work, but the Chain Walk was something that everyone seemed to agree on. But it wasn't even that the charm the Planeswalker was employing that had given him away; it was his little sidekick, screaming his name as though she desired it to be her very last breath.

_How tragic_, she thought to herself, admiring the Blue Adept as he used every ounce of stealth he could to follow the way the imp had taken his sweetie. She was far enough away that whatever illusion he was using to work through the crowd and make his way to the hall doors that lead into the actual normal parts of the dungeon palace did not work on her.

She smiled a cruel smile as the Dark Lord bade her, and she turned from the high vantage point in the balcony of the Gore House, walking into the darkness of the hall and allowing the shadows to swallow her whole. She traveled quickly, knowing that Rakdos did not deign to be kept waiting, and arrived before the large doors that were smeared with blood – blood that shown his seal. She swept in with a flourish, all cleavage and fire-coloured hair, walking immediately to the dais in the center of the room.

One of the reptilian-like servants dropped to its knee as she approached, holding up the knife that usually lay next to the large ornamental bowl that was fixed upon a podium on the dais. She snatched it from the green-skinned abomination, stepping onto the platform. With a slice, Eizra had cut her hand open, and she held the bleeding wound over the pool of rich, dark red blood that sat in the bowl. With every drop, ripples sent out, the shockwaves of which transcended through consciousness and helped to link her with her Master.

"I'm here, Master," she cooed softly. "What do your require of me?"

"The traitor successfully completed the Gore-House Chain Walk and yet breathes still?" came the rumbling voice inside her head. Aloud, it was a mere whisper, low and groaning – audible, but not intelligible.

"In truth, it was not my intention. I had hoped she would fall and appease the crowd, but now they love her," Eirza said. As soon as she said it, she knew she had made a mistake, and let out a shrill yelp as she felt pressure on her upper-body from a large, unseen and very clawed hand. Rakdos may not have been able to grab her in person, but as a Blood Witch, she had pledged her servitude, and that meant he had free reign over her mind and body – and what the mind perceives, the body feels.

"_Your intention?_" Rakdos demanded. "You _intend_ nothing. You dare not assume my wishes, nor my whims, nor my desires, _witch_," the Demon-God spat. He forced Eirza's hand into the bowl of water, where the temperature had begun to rise. "You live only to serve me. To please _me_," he reminded her. "If I wish you to leave your hand in this dish until your skin melts off, you will do it because you wish to please me. It will fill you with joy because it fills _me_ with joy."

At once, he released the pressure on her hand. Eirza remained as she had been placed, submerged up to her elbow in the pool of blood. It was boiling. She resisted the urge to cry out, though her entire body shook with pain as she struggled not to rip her arm out of the water. She concentrated on the Dark Lord's voice, his commands, trying to fully release herself to his control. The pain increased, and blisters began to form on her arm and hand. She was literally being cooked.

"Remove your disgusting mortal hand from my blood!" Rakdos issued suddenly, taking great joy in watching the Priestess yank her hand from the boiling ichor as quickly as possible. He considered telling her not to use any sort of healing spells on herself, but she _was_ his High Priestess, and he _did_ require her services at the moment.

"Do I please you, Master?" she asked, the pain laden in her voice, giving it a husky tone that she did not normally carry. Her full lips were pressed together in a grim sort of smile, and her teeth bit down on the insides of her mouth, drawing blood. _Anything_ to take from the pain in her arm. She did want to please him, but it was only to avoid punishment. Rakdos knew it, and he didn't feel like disputing it, because he'd gotten his point across and if it happened again, he would just kill her.

"Is there another who wishes the honour of my presence?" Rakdos prompted. He could tell the Witch had not said all she had come to say, and wanted to get on with it. He had only been awake for two days, and already his slumber was fast approaching. The search for the Dimir whore had entirely turned his schedule topsy-turvy. He'd be sure to punish her appropriately.

"Yes, Master," Eirza said, blinking rapidly as she realized she was being hurried. Visits with Rakdos were often brief, but it was obvious that he was coming to the end of his term. "Jace Beleren, the Blue Adept Planeswalker," she spat, finding he had too many titles. "He came in search of the girl. She called to him as she nearly fell off of the chain, and I spotted him moving through the crowd. He had a ring that hid his presence, though if I know the charm it has by now worn off. What shall be done about him?"

Rakdos thought for a moment. "Seclude the girl; _bury_ her. The catacombs should do the trick nicely. Starve her – of light, of food, of water. Give her no mental stimulation otherwise; ward the room with your best mages."

Eirza was stunned at his response. She had assumed he would have wanted to eradicate the problem as quickly as possible. "To use her as bait to catch the Planeswalker?" she asked hesitantly.

"After a fashion," he trailed, another deep rumbling laugh punctuating his thoughts to her, and shaking the dais with its sudden intensity. "No doubt he will be opening his mind up to excess to find her. We shall observe how well Szadek has trained his fledgling daughter," he mused, his tone perversely excited. What a Psychic Vampire of that lineage could do to the famed Mind Sculptor... Rakdos wouldn't miss it for the world. He was absolutely overjoyed, in fact, that his dwelling had become the arena for this.

Eirza nodded, then bowed low. "I will send Aethen to handle the girl," she informed him. "I will ensure that she has an appetite for when her beloved friend seeks to rescue her." She smiled at the mere thought of the carnage that would ensure, then took her leave of The Defiler as he dismissed her.

She stepped off the dais, excitement anew as she plotted how this would play out in her head. Absently, she muttered a few words, the wounds on her hand fading away as she walked towards the exit. She snatched up a towel that had been presented to her by the reptilian-like servant from before, then threw the bloody cloth behind her as she continued on her way. She needed to get to Aethen and let him know the good news.


End file.
